


Steps

by YamiSnuffles



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 12:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17683910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YamiSnuffles/pseuds/YamiSnuffles
Summary: The two years that followed Shepard's death changed both her and Garrus. It's been a hard road but they finally take the first steps back to not only rebuilding a relationship but forming something new.





	1. Chapter 1

_“I won’t lose another Normandy.”_

Joker’s words echoed in Leila’s mind hours after they’d first been said. She hadn’t had a chance to think about them at the time. When death and danger had pressed in from all sides, Joker’s panicked voice had only been so much noise. It had been just one more thing driving her forward. But now they were all off the Collector ship and back on the Normandy. Far away and- for the moment- safe.

She hadn’t given herself a chance to dwell on the original Normandy’s destruction. It had still come to her, unbidden, from time to time; on Horizon when she saw Ashley again, in vivid, tumbling nightmares, and groggy mornings when she awoke to see the dark void of space hanging above her head. In the last case, Leila couldn’t help but wonder if the people who had redesigned the Normandy were that clueless or if the Illusive Man just had a sick sense of humor. Maybe it was a bit of both.

If she was ever going to sleep soundly again, Leila knew she would have to face her past. She couldn’t continue to plow headlong into other people’s problems without facing her own. She had to go to Alchera.

News of the original Normandy’s crash site had been one of the first messages she’d received aboard the SR2. She’d been alone in her cabin, just as she was now. It had been so surreal. To even think about going there, seeing the place she’d died after she’d just been given a chance to live again…

She’d read every word in the message from Alliance Command without letting any of it sink in. The message hadn’t been deleted but she hadn’t looked at it or even thought about it since.

Then it had all seemed to happen again. She’d been aboard the very same Collector vessel that had killed her two years before. Just like before, the Normandy and everyone aboard it was in danger of being destroyed. It had felt like living through her nightmares. If it had only been her on that ship, she might have died again. However, she hadn’t been alone. She was too busy keeping Miranda alive to let herself die. Too worried about keeping Garrus safe to lose her focus.

Garrus.

Leila chewed absently at her bottom lip, momentarily forgetting her other worries. She wasn’t sure when exactly Garrus had become one of the complicated things in her life. Things used to be simple with him. It had been so easy to chat with him while he fiddled with the Mako or to fight by his side against the Geth. Now he was so different. Being with him was different.

She had barely been able to get more than two words out of him after Omega. Or, one word to be precise. Shepard could have almost believed he ate and drank calibrations the way he obsessed over them. He’d finally opened up a little when he’d gotten a lead on Sidonis but then she’d stopped him from getting the revenge he so craved. She didn’t regret it, not really, but it meant she had been blocked out again. Before she’d gotten a chance to talk to him about it, they’d run into the Collectors. Since then she’d been holed up in her cabin, her head swimming with all the implications the ship had brought.

Shepard got to her feet and paced in front of her small coffee table. She needed to fix whatever it was that was broken between her and Garrus. If she did that- if she could just talk to him- she might be able to find the strength she needed to face Alchera. She was going to visit the site that had been her grave. She needed someone to ground her, to prove to her that this was all real.

 

* * *

 

Garrus stared at the screen in front of him. Calibrations weren’t just an excuse this time; he really did need to work. The run-in with the Collector vessel had underlined just how important it was for them to be able to fight back. If they were going to be able to survive another attack like that, they would have to do more than run away. Unfortunately, he couldn’t concentrate. He hadn’t really been able to concentrate since getting on the new Normandy.

First there had been everything that happened on Omega. Then, just as he had started to fall into a routine, he’d received word about Sidonis. It should have been easier once Sidonis had been dealt with, only, he hadn’t been dealt with. Not really. He’d been in the scope and walked away. Shepard’s stubborn refusal to move had pushed Garrus to the edge. The thought of what he might have done if he hadn’t given in and put his rifle aside made him a bit sick.

He understood Shepard’s motivations. With some space and time, he found he even agreed with her… to an extent. It was just harder to deal with. He’d wanted revenge for his squad more than he’d wanted much else in his life. Death would have been an end to it all. He’d meant what he’d said to Shepard; he didn’t know what to do with shades of grey.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Shepard appeared at the door. Or, at least, he assumed it was her. Even without looking he just knew. No one else ever came to the Main Battery.

“Shepard,” he said by way of greeting.

“Garrus…”

There was something off about her voice. It seemed stretched. Strained. Entirely un-Shepard.

Garrus turned around to face her fully. What he saw concerned him even more than her voice had. Shepard looked small. The larger than life, savior of the galaxy looked fragile. Like he could give her one good shove and she might just break into a million pieces. Garrus wasn’t sure what to make of it. It gave him the same upside down feeling he’d gotten when he’d found out that even Shepard could die. He cleared his throat.

“Is there something you need me for, Shepard?”

“Yes. Well, no. Not exactly.” Shepard frowned slightly, causing Garrus to do the same. Everything seemed off about her today. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on  _why_.

When she didn’t elaborate, he said, “So, what is it that you don’t exactly need me for?”

Shepard laughed, but it was dry and without any real humor in it.

“I just- we need to talk, Garrus.”

Something turned over in Garrus’ stomach at that reply. The only thing he could think that she might want to talk about was Sidonis. Beyond that, there was the way she had said it. It was just another instance of something being not quite right.

Garrus didn’t like it. He felt strangely off kilter and he wasn’t sure if he could have such a serious discussion with Shepard in this state. He was worried he would say something stupid that he would regret later. He wanted to wait until he had his head on straight again. If he had just a bit more time to think everything out, then he was sure he could put everything right with Shepard again.

“Can it wait a bit?” he asked slowly.

“Let me guess,” Shepard sighed, “calibrations?”

“It’s just, after that close call with the Collectors… We can’t afford any mistakes.”

Shepard’s face was completely unreadable. As far as Garrus was concerned, that was saying something. He was good at reading humans. As an investigator he’d had to be. Interrogations just didn’t work well if you couldn’t read the person you were interrogating. Beyond that, he’d come to memorize every expression Shepard had thrown his way. Every quirk of her eyebrow, each pull at her wide lips- he knew what it all meant. But this Shepard made him feel like he’d lost a few of his senses without even realizing it. Like he’d been blindfolded before this conversation had even started and he was just feeling his way along, hoping he wouldn’t fall into a pit along the way.

Shepard turned away from him and palmed the door open again to leave.

“You’re right. You need to work. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you,” she said.

She had spoken quietly enough that Garrus had hardly caught the last few words. He wasn’t sure but it had seemed as if her voice had shaken at the end.

Garrus stared at the closed door for a few minutes after Shepard left. He was fighting a wild impulse to run after Shepard and explain himself to her. Only, he wasn’t quite sure what it was he needed to explain. About Sidonis? About why he couldn’t talk to her now? Talk to her ever? Or at least, he couldn’t seem to talk to her since she’d come back from the dead.

When they were out together on a mission, it was like nothing had ever changed. As soon as they got back on the Normandy, though, that seemed to go out the window. They could still make small talk or discuss the good old days of chasing down Saren, but neither seemed able to move beyond those easy, comfortable discussions. If things started to turn toward Omega and what had happened there, Garrus shut it down.

He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the commander; he trusted Shepard with his life. He trusted her more than he trusted himself sometimes. Still, something held him back. He didn’t know himself anymore when he was around her. He didn’t trust what he might say or do. And the most maddening thing was he didn’t know why. He couldn’t explain it to Shepard, because he couldn’t explain it to himself.

When he suddenly realized just how long he’d been standing there, staring blankly at the door, he shook his head ruefully.

“You’re losing it, Vakarian.”

He barked out a harsh laugh as he turned back toward the console to continue his work on calibrations. Apparently he felt more comfortable talking to himself than he did to Shepard. He really was losing it.

A few hours later, Garrus finally walked out of the Main Battery. He stretched out his long limbs. He’d been tense ever since Shepard had dropped by and he was starting to feel it. He knew he couldn’t spend another day like that. Not only was he not getting any actual work done but he felt terrible by the end of it.

Shepard’s hunched form drifted into his mind. His gut gave an uncomfortable twist at the thought. He felt guilty about turning her away when she’d been like that. He still wasn’t sure what he could say to her, but he resolved to say something. He had to at least try. She’d done so much to help him. He wasn’t sure if he could live with himself if he didn’t do anything when she so clearly needed someone.

He turned on his heel and walked back into the Main Battery. Once in there, he said, “EDI, where is Commander Shepard?”

A blue orb blinked into existence a few feet away.

“The commander is not currently on board the Normandy,” the AI responded

_What_? Had Shepard gone on a mission? Garrus hadn’t been left behind for a single mission since he’d been recruited. Why now?

“Where is she?”

“She is currently aboard a shuttle en route to Alchera.”

Alchera. Garrus racked his brain for information on the planet. He wasn’t immediately sure why it sounded so familiar. Then it hit him. It was the planet above which Shepard had died. And she was going there? Garrus gripped the nearby railing to steady himself.

“Can I talk to her?”

“The commander has turned off all communications.” EDI’s voice was even and unemotional. It was to be expected for an AI, but it felt entirely at odds with how Garrus felt.

“What about the shuttle pilot? Can I talk to him?”

“Shepard chose to pilot the shuttle herself. I advised against it, but she was quite insistent.”

“Of course she was,” Garrus grumbled to himself.

“Officer Vakarian?”

“That will be all, EDI.” Garrus waved the AI away. The last thing he needed was for EDI to hear him talking to himself. Yeoman Chambers would probably get sicced on him. If he was going to talk to anyone it wasn’t going to be the overly friendly yeoman. That’s when a thought struck him. “EDI, wait.”

The blue orb reappeared without a word.

“Let me know when Shepard is back on the ship.”

“Understood.”


	2. Chapter 2

Leila sat alone in the midst of the horrible beauty of Alchera. She’d managed to locate a few dog tags before she’d collapsed in a heap on the ground, crushed by memories of the dead. Eventually sitting that way- a confused tangle of armored limbs- caused the feeling in her legs to drain away. She got up then, but only long enough to find a small, snow covered ledge to sit on.

It was so quiet here. The only sound had been the crunch of snow beneath her boots. Now that she’d stopped moving, her own breath was the only thing keeping her from utter silence. As far as she knew, she was the only living thing on the entire planet.

Silent as the grave.

Her throat felt painfully constricted. She hadn’t cried yet and she wasn’t sure if she ever would. At this point she didn’t know if it would be a relief or not. She’d kept her emotions clamped down tight, wary of letting her crew see anything other than cool confidence. She didn’t want to be one more reason for them to worry. As it was, she knew she should take advantage of what time she had alone. It would probably make her feel better, even if crying could quickly get messy with a helmet on.

When she tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, it caught in her throat and made her hiccup instead. That was enough to make her lose her tenuous calm at last. Wild, peeling laughter erupted from sorrow tightened lungs. Gasping breaths lead to further hiccups which in turn lead to more laughter.

It was all utterly absurd. There she was, lying in the middle of what essentially her grave site, alive and laughing her head off over hiccups. Maybe it was good she hadn’t been able to talk to Garrus and get him to come along. He still seemed to look up to her, even if he wasn’t talking to her much anymore. Her current state seemed like a good way to put an end to that. She was suddenly thankful that she had thought to cut off all communication.

Tears collected in the commander’s eyes. She reached up unconsciously to wipe them away only to be rebuffed by the visor of her helmet. Leila laughed one last time, but it was a hollow sound. That was exactly how she felt now. Empty.

She let her head loll backwards. The shifting auroras above reflected off her visor. With her white armor on, she felt like she’d been turned into just one more glittering piece of the landscape. Maybe if she sat there long enough, that bit of fiction could become truth.

Leila slowly pushed herself onto her feet. She wobbled forward on numb legs. She had to face this. It was a monument to all she had lost, to her mortality, and to all she could lose again. If she didn’t get her head on straight, the Omega-4 jump really could turn into the suicide mission it was so often purported to be. If not for herself, then she needed to do this for her crew. She owed it to them to be the best leader she could be. She couldn’t let this- let Alchera- happen again.

The weight of it all pressed down on Leila with a near impossible pressure. She leaned heavily against a discarded slab of hull. She could do this. She  _would_  do this because she had to. She just wondered what would be left of her when she’d finished.

A dog tag glittered by the toe of her boot and she scooped it up.

Would someone else be there to scoop up the pieces when she finally fell apart?

 

* * *

 

Garrus marched toward the elevator. He tried his best not to think about what he was doing. Or, rather, where he was going. He’d never been up to Shepard’s cabin. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure if any of the crew had. It wasn’t that she’d ever forbidden it. It wasn’t off limits, but somehow it felt that way. Anyway, if anyone wanted to talk to her, she would find them. None of the crew ever had to search her out. She just seemed to know when she was needed and appeared.

It was easy to forget that she could use the same sort of attention, from time to time. She seemed above the problems that others faced. It wasn’t true, Garrus knew, but it was hard to see that when you were around her. Shepard exuded power and stability. She never showed her cracks.

Except today. For whatever reason, she had let him see her need. She’d allowed him a side of herself that no one else got and he’d turned her away. He’d been so worried about his own problems that he hadn’t thought about the possibility of Shepard having problems of her own.

So, despite the uneasiness that settled in his gut when he thought about where he was going, he practically slammed the button to go up. The door slid shut and he started the slow ascent to Shepard’s loft cabin. It was only once he was on his way up that he started to have second thoughts. What if he’d missed his chance? What if trying to talk to her now only made things worse?

Garrus shook his head. No. He knew he was just trying to talk himself out of this. As the elevator slowed to a stop, he realized it was too late to change his mind anyway. He’d reached the top.

When the doors opened again, Garrus took one brisk step out of the elevator. If he took one more step he’d be at the door to Shepard’s room. It was unlocked. That was a good sign at least. If she really hadn’t wanted anyone to visit, she wouldn’t have just left it open. Unless of course she hadn’t expected anyone to actually come up and so had simply forgotten to take further measure. Well, he’d just have to prove her wrong. He’d have to show her that someone on this ship cared enough to check on her the way she did for all of them.

Garrus took that next step forward and the door to the cabin slid open at his presence. He stopped short, only just inside the room. It was weird being in there. The first thing that struck him was just how luxurious Cerberus had made it. The next thing was the intense oddness of being in Shepard’s personal space. There were little touches of her all over. He hadn’t realized just how much she had accumulated in all their trips to the Citadel. Nearly every available space had been filled with piles of books, pictures, scattered models, a collection of colorful fish, and even a space hamster. The only thing that was missing was Shepard herself.

The door closed behind Garrus as he moved further into the cabin. His visor locked onto Shepard before his eyes ever found her. She was sitting on the couch on the lower level, but she was hidden from view by a half wall. His visor spat out her vitals. She was breathing erratically. Now that he knew what to listen for, Garrus could hear a little gasping, gulping noise. If he hadn’t known where it was coming from, he never would have guessed it was Shepard.

Worried now about what he would find, Garrus walked hesitantly down to the lower level. Shepard was huddled at the crook of the couch. Her knees were drawn up toward her chin and her arms were wrapped around something he couldn’t quite make out. She wasn’t wearing her usual uniform. Instead she was dressed simply, in a loose pair of pants and a short sleeved shirt. Her hair- that endlessly intriguing human feature- was a ruffled mess. Rather than falling in its usual sleek curtain around her head, it resembled some sort of nest.

It gave him the inexplicable desire to run his fingers through her hair to untangle it. He settled for saying, “Commander.”

No response. She didn’t even look at him. Garrus wasn’t sure what to do. This wasn’t the woman he knew. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he owed it to her to try. He sat at the edge of the couch and swallowed hard.

“Shepard.”

 

* * *

 

Leila looked up with a start at the sound of her name. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Garrus sitting nearby. How long had he been there? She couldn’t believe that she was really so out of it that she hadn’t noticed anyone entering the cabin, let alone sitting on the couch.

Leila continued to stare at Garrus until she realized that she was  _continuing to stare at Garrus_. She tried to smile at him but her mouth must not have arranged itself quite right because Garrus looked even more concerned than before. She let her face fall back to its previous expression. It seemed like vocal communication might be the safer bet until she could trust her body not to rebel against her.

“Garrus,” she said slowly. “I- what are you doing here?”

“I’m not entirely sure, Shepard. But, um…”

Garrus scratched the back of his neck and cocked his head slightly. If Leila had been in a better state of mind, she might have found it endearing. As it was, it just felt like another sign of how miserable she must look. Garrus was cool and collected, not awkward. She must have really looked far gone if Garrus was so clearly out of his depth.

“Do you want to talk? I mean, you wanted to earlier but I didn’t know if you still did.” Garrus’ voice jumped up in pitch at the final few words. He cleared his throat quickly and his brilliant blue-green eyes flicked off to the side. “I’m… rambling I think. Sorry.”

There it was again. That jarring, unexpected awkwardness.

Leila looked hard at her friend. Her eyes started to burn and she squeezed them shut. They flashed open again when she felt a gentle touch on her cheek. Garrus’ hand froze under her gaze. He had one finger stretched out and he’d collected a tear on top of it. The two of them stared at that finger. Leila’s mouth hung slightly agape as more tears slid silently out of her eyes. Garrus swallowed hard and his mandibles fluttered with his nerves.


	3. Chapter 3

Garrus wasn’t sure why he’d done it. When he’d seen that first tear trickle out of her eyes, he’d felt compelled to do something. He wanted to help her and, in some way, he wanted to assure himself that it was all real. He’d never seen Shepard cry. He needed to touch that tear- touch her- to assure himself of what he was really seeing.

Now that he’d done it, he knew he should pull his hand back. Or, at least, do  _something_  other than just sit there like a fool. But when Shepard turned her eyes on him, he felt like he’d been frozen in place. Her eyes were dancing back and forth, searching what felt like every inch of his face.

That level of scrutiny was enough to finally break Garrus out of his stasis. He turned his eyes down. Now that she had shifted a bit, Garrus could finally see what was in Shepard’s arms. It was a helmet. But it wasn’t just any helmet.

Garrus reached forward slowly. Every movement was cautious, deliberate. He laid his hands on the helmet and when he tried to take it, Shepard didn’t resist. He turned it over in his hands. It was still in one piece, but just barely. Deep scars and burns marred the dark surface. The edges of the wide, scarlet N7 stripe were ragged and chipped. Each mark was a testament to how much Shepard had gone through.

“What am I?”

Garrus’ grip on the helmet tightened reflexively. He looked up at Shepard again. She had pulled her legs up to her chin again and she was staring blankly forward. Tears continued to run slowly out of her eyes.

“Shepard-”

“Meat and tubes. That’s what Jacob said I was when he first saw me. Just meat and tubes. And if that’s all there was, how much of what’s left is still me?”

Garrus examined the thin scars that remained on Shepard’s face. There was a faint red glow to them, though it was less noticeable now that the wounds had mostly healed. Like his own scars, it was a memento of all she’d been through. His fingers twitched with a sudden desire to touch those scars. This time he resisted his impulse. Instead Garrus turned the helmet over in his hands once more. Then he stood up and walked slowly over to a nearby desk. He placed the helmet down gently on a corner. He lingered there just a moment before returning to his seat on the couch.

“Shepard, I don’t know what they had to do to bring you back to life, but they did bring  _you_  back,” he assured her. “I knew that the moment I saw you again on Omega and I haven’t seen anything since that has made me doubt it for a moment.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Shepard fell onto Garrus. If he’d felt out of his depth before, it was nothing compared to now. Apparently his words had been enough to unleash all the emotion that Shepard had walled up. Her thin frame shook with each, shuddering, sobbing breath she took. Garrus had no idea what to say or do to help her, or if there even was anything he could or should do. Eventually he settled on lowering his hands, which he’d raised at Shepard’s unexpected display of grief. He settled both hands on Shepard’s back. The contact felt a bit presumptuous but he supposed since his commanding officer was currently crying her heart out on his shoulder, any boundaries that had lain between them had already been crossed.

Garrus sat silently and hoped that his mere presence was enough to help Shepard. While he sat there- his posture stiff and awkward- he considered the woman in his arms. When he’d first met her, she’d been Commander Shepard- a human that quickly obliterated any expectations of her and became more than anyone could have predicted. She’d gone from a forgotten orphan on Earth to being not just the first human Spectre but the savior of the galaxy. She’d also become something of a mentor and his closest friend in the galaxy.

Then she’d died. She’d disappeared from his life for two years and by the time she’d come back into it, the same as ever, he’d changed so much. If he could have, he would have happily jumped right back into the relationship they’d had before but, no matter how he tried, it just didn’t fit the way it once had. Now he was starting to wonder if that was really what he wanted. Maybe things didn’t need to be exactly the way they used to be. Maybe something new-  _better_ \- could be forged from their old friendship.

A little too late, Garrus realized that Shepard had shifted in his arms and was trying to sit up again. His arms flew up in an instant. He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment while Shepard settled back into the nook of the couch. She used the heel of her hands to wipe away any residual wetness from her eyes. She let out a slightly strangled laugh and then started running her fingers through her knotted hair.

“God, Garrus, I’m sorry,” she said. “I must look like a complete mess.”

“You look-” There was a wild rawness to the woman sitting in front of him. She was simultaneously nothing like the Commander Shepard he knew and  _more_  like her than he’d ever actually seen. He wondered if she’d always been like this but it had been buried away where he couldn’t see it. “-different.”

Shepard laughed at that. Or, at least, Garrus thought it was a laugh. It was really more of a strangled snort than anything else. Shepard’s expression didn’t help clarify the meaning of the sound. Her eyebrows were knit with concern and tears still pooled at the corner of her eyes, but her mouth was spread in a wide, crooked smile.

“Thanks for coming up here.”

Garrus shook his head. “I should have talked when you came earlier. I should have been there with you on Alchera. Things have just been…”

“Awkward?” Shepard offered.

“That might be putting it lightly.” Garrus stood up and walked over to the fish tank. His eyes were on the reflection of Shepard in the glass instead of on the colorful creatures flitting about within. He still wasn’t ready to talk about Sidonis, but somehow it felt like an apology for turning her away earlier. He owed her as much honesty as she had given him. “You were right to stop me. When I was staring through the scope and you wouldn’t move out of the way, I wanted to shoot you. Only for an instant but that was enough. I realized then that I was letting Sidonis- my thirst for revenge- change me in ways I didn’t want.”

Garrus sank forward and his forehead pressed up against the cool glass of the fish tank. He’d been terrified to admit of the impulse to himself, to acknowledge that his finger had twitched in a desire to put an end to it all, no matter the cost. Telling Shepard had his heart caught in his throat.

“You’d never have done it.”

Garrus tried to laugh but only a choked huff escaped his throat. He turned his head so that he could see over his shoulder through the corner of his eyes. Shepard was on her feet. She padded across the carpet and looked up at him. Without boots on she was even shorter than usual but she no longer looked small. Despite rumpled clothes and hair, she was back to being the imposing Commander Shepard. He turned to face her and crossed his arms over his chest.

“So you know what I’m thinking better than I do?”

She crossed her arms too, matching defiance with equal defiance. “I do.”

Garrus deflated. His arms fell to his sides. “Enlighten me then, Shepard, because I’m lost.”

“You’re a good man. Sometimes you let that hot head of yours lead you places that maybe you shouldn’t, but you’d never go too far.”

“I’m not as good as you think.”

Shepard walked closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re better.”

She leveled him with a steady gaze. Her eyes were still red from recently shed tears but there was something strong behind them. He wished that he knew what she was thinking. If only he could read her as well as she could apparently read him. He tried to match her gaze but it was difficult to do. He didn’t think he could be who she thought he was.

“I lose my way without you.”

She pressed her hand a bit harder on his shoulder. It wasn’t much, not through his armor, but it was enough. She was there with him. “Then I guess we better stick together because, I don’t know if you’ve seen me recently Vakarian, but I’m a mess.”

They both laughed together. It wasn’t that funny, really, but it was the first real laugh that either one of them had enjoyed in a while. When they’d finished, Garrus groaned and pressed his palm up to his forehead.

“Damn. Shepard, I didn’t want to make this about me. I just wanted to be here for you.”

“We’re both there for each other. That’s just the way it is with us.”

Garrus cocked his head and looked at Shepard, really looked at her. “Yeah.” He didn’t know how he’d managed it, but she did seem better. She was back to her old self. No, that wasn’t quite right. He thought he’d been the only one to change over the last two years but she’d changed too. He wasn’t entirely sure how, but he realized was looking forward to finding out.

“What?” Shepard scrunched her nose. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No I just- it’s just been good to talk to you again.”

“Right, so next time I come by, you won’t even think the words think the word calibrations.”

Shepard held out a hand and Garrus took it. “I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Shepard and Vakarian is a good thing. I don’t want to let that fall apart just because we’re too hard headed to talk.” The corner of Shepard’s mouth pulled up into a lopsided smile. “And Garrus, thanks.”

“Anytime, Shepard.”


End file.
